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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27600431">Shoe Polishing</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/sentient_dust/pseuds/sentient_dust'>sentient_dust</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Sofia the First (Cartoon)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Awkward Scenerios, Cedric is a good person, Children don’t understand boundaries, F/M, Maybe - Freeform, Miscommunication, Oblivious Sofia, Unrequited Love, Unresolved Romantic Tension, or maybe, we’ll never know</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 00:54:55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,364</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27600431</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/sentient_dust/pseuds/sentient_dust</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>He abruptly let out an airy sound of disbelief before covering his face with his palm. “Right… so when you decided to shine my shoes it was because?”</p><p>“It would be a nice gesture?”</p><p>“How magnanimous,” he choked. “Get off the floor… please.”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Cedric the Sorcerer/Sofia the First</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>43</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Shoe Polishing</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Heed: This involves a fourteen/fifteen-ish girl involved in slighthly suggestive content. Not tagged underage cus there's no sexual content.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He gathered the books that were on his desk and transferred them to the shelf with fluidity incongruous to his lean arms. Never mind the numerous times she saw him do it, his uncharacteristic grace was fascinating.</p><p> </p><p>“You realize you have to verbalize your thoughts for me to hear them?”</p><p> </p><p>Startled out of her musings, she realized she’d been staring. “Perhaps you should have figured out the mind magic by now, then.”</p><p> </p><p>His eyes narrowed, “How do you know about that?”</p><p> </p><p>Without missing a beat, she countered, “How did you know I was outside your door?”</p><p> </p><p>Cedric straightened his spine while picking up the rest of the stack. “Another day, then.”</p><p> </p><p>Sofia fought a grin, a task easier accomplished when she recalled why she was there. “Mister Cedric— Are you busy today?”</p><p> </p><p>Finally tucking the last book into the shelf, he said, “Not urgently.”</p><p> </p><p> “I- Do you want to come to the shoe festival in the village— with me?”</p><p> </p><p>The sorcerer stilled, and so did her breathing. She was certain she was about to be rejected, swiftly, and mayhaps bluntly. However, instead of a sharp rebuke, Cedric turned around, baffled. “Why would we do that?”</p><p> </p><p>Sofia shrugged. Hopefully, it didn’t look as forced as it felt. “It could be fun.”</p><p> </p><p>“I do try to leave the village to its traditions, but shoes?” He huffed, “Of all the things to celebrate, it’s like they specifically set out to pick the inanest of a subject.”</p><p> </p><p>“Shoes are plenty important,” she pointed out, unsure of whether he was declining in a very circumlocutory manner.</p><p> </p><p>“So is running water,” he waved his hand dismissively. “If humans commemorated every innovation they came up with, we'd be in perpetual holiday.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s natural to celebrate accomplishments.”</p><p> </p><p>“Shoes aren’t our accomplishment. They’re more than several millenniums old.”</p><p> </p><p>Sofia’s brows creased towards each other. Discussing the validity of the old village traditions wasn’t how she expected her proposal to go. “Sure they are! I was a shoemaker, you know.”</p><p> </p><p>His confusion was lost to growing amusement, “At eight.”</p><p> </p><p>“It was my mother’s source of income before becoming Queen.”</p><p> </p><p>“Is she going to the festival?”</p><p> </p><p>“…Besides the point.”</p><p> </p><p>“Then what is the point?”</p><p> </p><p>Bewildered at what the conversation had become, she exclaimed, “Just come and celebrate my roots!”</p><p> </p><p>“Is this why you were standing outside my door in silence for minutes, for a shoe festival? Do you even remember how to fabricate a pair of shoes?”</p><p> </p><p>“Probably.”</p><p> </p><p>He pursed his lips to stop them from inching upwards (she knew he did that, no matter how much he insisted otherwise). There was hidden mirth dancing in his voice, “How can you say that with so much confidence?”</p><p> </p><p>She refused to blush; the awe-struck undertone to his question was too subtle to be anything but her imagination. Conjuring a footstool, she pushed it to where he sat, “Fine. I’ll show you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Princess,” he was suddenly sitting straight as a broomstick, “Perhaps this isn’t necessary. I’ll be happy to accompany you to the village festival.”</p><p> </p><p>Sofia beamed, “Really?”</p><p> </p><p>His eyes were slightly widened, yet his eyebrows lowered further, giving him an unexpectedly intense look. “You’ve succeeded. I’m wholly convinced of your provincial roots. You can get off the ground now.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s not a bother.” She summoned a brush, a soft cloth, and cream polish. “I already have all the materials, see? It’ll be fun.”</p><p> </p><p>Cedric’s gaze flickered to the door and back at the items in her hand. His shoulders slumped by a quarter inch. “If you must.”</p><p> </p><p>Smiling victoriously, she brushed the dust off his shoes and dipped the cloth into the black cream. She took hold of the back of his foot and set it on the elevated part of the stool.</p><p> </p><p>At the subsequent tiny gasp, Sofia sharply looked up. Cedric’s face was beginning to flush. Finally noticing how high her fingers had traveled she quickly unwrapped her fingers from his Achilles tendon. “Sorry.”</p><p> </p><p>With an awkward nod, he leaned back, somehow managing to look even less relaxed.</p><p> </p><p>The cloth dragged across the dulled leather, leaving glossy black in its wake. The sight was unexpectedly nostalgic.</p><p> </p><p>Her gaze trailed the length of his white stockings. Getting close to him wasn’t her original intention, but she wasn’t going to begrudge the turn of events.</p><p> </p><p>He rocked his leg by the ball of his foot. Sofia frowned slightly. Did having his shoes polished make him uncomfortable? She hoped not, it would have made this a little mean towards him.</p><p> </p><p>Before she could do more than graze his ankle, Cedric flinched back. He mumbled out a strained, “I’ll do it,” and alternated his foot position so that she could begin to work on the second shoe.</p><p> </p><p>“Sofia.”</p><p> </p><p>He cleared his throat, something he usually only did when he was about to address aristocracy, “You shouldn't- I’m sorry, it's not appropriate. You’re—,” his face fell into a grimace, seeming to have given up on finishing the sentence. "It's <em>indecent</em>."</p><p> </p><p>“Polishing your shoes? Are you referring to my position as Royalty? I promise I don’t mind, Mister Cedric. I hardly think dad or mom would, either.”</p><p> </p><p>Cedric scoffed. It would have been a laugh if there was anything jovial about it, "I'd wager my family wand King Roland would mind.”</p><p> </p><p>His words were taking an unsettling undertone Sofia did not appreciate. “My father takes no issue with hard work. He would never look down upon the working class, just the same there is no shame in partaking in their work.”</p><p> </p><p>“That is not what I meant, Sofia. Do not be fooled into thinking I cannot hear your implied accusations.”</p><p> </p><p>Sofia set the rag down, desperately wondering where everything went south. “I make no accusations. It doesn’t sound like you mirror the sentiment.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s hardly an accusation.” He pinked slightly, "Why else does one get on their knees?”</p><p> </p><p>“As opposed to what?”</p><p> </p><p>Cedric’s brows furrowed, looking a little lost, “I- You’re not doing it on purpose?”</p><p> </p><p>“I was intentionally polishing your shoes,” she enunciated slowly.</p><p> </p><p>“On your knees!”</p><p> </p><p>“What does this have to do with my knees!”</p><p> </p><p>His eyes searched hers, unconvinced. For a moment, she feared he had actually learned to read minds. Her feelings would wreck havoc if they were revealed. She wasn’t being dishonest, but her heart was unsure under his scrutiny.</p><p> </p><p>He abruptly let out an airy sound of disbelief before covering his face with his palm. “Right… so when you decided to shine my shoes it was because?”</p><p> </p><p>“It would be a nice gesture?”</p><p> </p><p>“How magnanimous,” he choked. “Get off the floor… please.”</p><p> </p><p>Sofia absentmindedly grabbed onto his knees to pull herself up, only for him to push her hands off. “You,” he said strangely high-pitched, “You should not do that.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh.” That did feel like rejection.</p><p> </p><p>“No, child,” he sighed. “Not that face. I don’t mean you can’t touch me ever.” He gestures vaguely to himself, “Merely restrict yourself to certain areas. Might I suggest the ones above the belt region?”</p><p> </p><p>The Princess nodded. If that is what bothered him, she would make certain to never do it again.</p><p> </p><p>Cedric paused, pursing his lips as the tinge of color on his face steadily grew deeper. He muttered something Sofia couldn't catch more than <em>How in Merlin’s- </em></p><p>
  
</p><p>“And don’t kneel in front of anyone unless you wish to proposition them,” he added. His words clawed at his throat, begging to not be forced out. </p><p> </p><p>It took a moment to register what he said, “Wha-”</p><p> </p><p>“No!” He jumped out of his chair, “Absolutely not. This conversation is over.”</p><p> </p><p>“Do you mean-”</p><p> </p><p>“I mean nothing, girl. This interaction never happened.” He pushed her out of his workshop by her shoulders.</p><p> </p><p>“But <em>why </em>would it-”</p><p> </p><p>His face was flaming, “Read a book, ask a fairy. I don’t care,” and he slammed the door shut.</p><p> </p><p>Not able to process what had happened, only one urgent thought stuck out, "Wait! Are you still coming to the festival with me?”</p><p> </p><p>It was a few eternal seconds before a muffled, "...Okay," came through the door.</p><p> </p><p>She walked down the stairs with blood pounding in her ears. Too preoccupied by not being rejected to wonder what was the proposition the wizard stammered about.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hah, don’t even try and tell me Sofia is not that clueless. This is nearly identical to personal experience. I have accidentally propositioned way too many people as a kid/teen, fight me.</p><p>Sofia needs some ✨Boundaries✨</p><p>Btw, if you see any mistakes/have any criticisms and tell me, I will fall in love with you don’t think I won’t.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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